The Bathroom: An Update and a Rant

I don’t know if any of you remember, or have been curious about, our bathroom situation.  Specifically, the shower, or lack thereof.  Well, I’ve tried not to write about it too much because, to be honest, I’ve been very annoyed with the whole thing.  To put it as nicely as possible:  we should have had a shower 3 weeks ago, but because of unforeseen circumstance after b.s. circumstance, we STILL don’t have one, and we’ve been living here for over a week now.

I also feel that I can’t complain about it too much because, after all, CF’s dad is helping us out FOR FREE and has offered to pay for all of the materials.  And I believe I wouldn’t be so upset about it if I wasn’t continually told “We’ll get it done by the end of the week,” only to s t i l l  n o t  h a v e   a   p l a c e   t o   b a t h e   i n   m y   o w n   h o m e.  It’s the false promises that make me nuts.  And the fact that I have pretty much no control over the situation because 1) I don’t know how to install a shower and 2) I don’t have the money to pay a professional who does.

So where does that leave me?  Stinky and annoyed?  Oh no, my friends–just annoyed.  CF’s mother has been so gracious as to allow me to drive down to her house every morning before work to take a shower.  Truly, so nice of her!

So while I can be grateful that I have a place to get clean (that is not the nearest truck stop), I still can’t help being annoyed.  And it’s not just the lack of shower.  It’s also the state of the bathroom:

"So, I can put my contacts case between the hammer and the shower drain, right?"

I’m beginning to think that my annoyance is not just a “me” thing, or a “I am ticked because I’m a control freak and I can’t control this” thing—it might just be a “chick” thing.

Now, as a feminist, I have spent much of my life refusing any stereotype about the sexes. But, now that I’m living with someone of the opposite sex, I am starting to see that there are reasons why these stereotypes exist. Maybe it’s just that I’ve heard CF “I’m a dude. I can live like a bear” a few too many times. Maybe I just want any reason beyond “I am a control freak” to be the reason that I’m bothered. But I just really don’t like to have a whole room of my home (a very important room!) in complete disarray for such a long time. (And, YES, I admit: I like even less that I can’t do much about it).  Most women that I speak to about this get equally annoyed.  Most men don’t seem to get the severity of the situation (except CF–he is starting to get it!).

C'mon! No one wants a hole where the shower wall should be...

However, more progress was made today, and though I was promised a whole working shower by the end of the day, I did end up with at least a hole. In the wall.

CF keeps apologizing and trying to make sure I’m not too angry about it (even though it’s not his fault AT ALL that his dad keeps saying he’ll do things and then doesn’t). And honestly, I’m done being angry now. I just want my shower. And my bathroom back. So I can clean it. And put stuff away. Because I am a control freak a chick a control freak a woman me.

And, yes, I know (now) that I should be very grateful to have a roof over my head, to have somewhere to bathe, especially because that somewhere is really just down the street. I know that I should be grateful to have people who are willing to help me, even pay for materials. And I am grateful! I am! But I just need one night to be upset about it. Because as much as I see how much I do have, it’s also ok to be upset about what I don’t have. Especially when bathing is one of those minimal things that the people I work with, and the people I teach, expect from me.

Now, let’s focus on something happy before we say goodnight:

A lovely, and mostly organized, kitchen.

Please ignore the tools on the coffeetable. I am.

There. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to brush my teeth, avoid spitting on the hammer or the flashlight, and climb into bed. G’night!  May all your homes be happy and may all your bathroom walls be hole-free!


About Cathy G Gilbert

I am veggie-loving, community college professor who lives, teaches, and writes in Central IL.
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